Disclaimer: Sorcerer Hunters not mine. Marron and the rest of them lot belong to Satoru Akahori,
Rei Omishi, and other people who are not me. This fic is written purely for entertainment purposes and not for any kind of a profit (you think people would actually PAY to read this krap??? o_O)
A few little author’s notes:
~This is a pretty dark fic. Betrayal, betrayal and more betrayal. Kind of like Hamlet (not that my
writing skills can hold a candle to those of good ol’ Shakes, of course). I tried to add a bit of humour and fluff, but it by no means balances the scales. Beware the mass-destruction angst!
~As far as pairings go, I can’t really tell you much without giving the whole bloody thing away.
However, I will say that there is both M/F and M/M stuff. Oh, and you Chocolat/Marron fans out there may want to bum a smoke.
~On Chocolat’s eye colour... In the anime, they’re blue. In the manga, they’re red like Tira’s. Every fanfic I’ve seen (including my own previous work) has used the blue-eyed version or left any mention of Chocolat’s eye colour out all together. I’ve decided to go with red, just for a change ^_^
.W A R N I N G S.
Hetero/Homo...erm... situations, depression, some non-con het, a little bastard-carrot and
bitch-Chocolat (though I tried to give them sufficient reasons for their actions), light suicide, colourful language, and a bit of very VERY mild chanslash (it’s a display of innocence, NOT erotica, and it doesn’t go past kissing anyway).
~ C A N D L E S ~
by
Fala “O Genki Desu-Ka” Tzipori
~I~
“Chocolat, PLEASE,” Carrot begged, a thread from getting down on his knees and groveling.
“Darling,” the redhead protested, torn between kicking him for being such a jerk, and milking it for all it was worth. She rather enjoyed seeing Carrot all but kissing her feet for a favour...
“Ymph!” she sniffed, “You know I belong to you and no one else,” she smiled down at him, her
crimson eyes regarding him in an acidic, teasing way, “Even if you do like my sister more.”
A little miffed by this comment but nonetheless desperate, Carrot brushed it aside, “Oh come on,
Please??? If you do it, I swear I’ll... um...”
The young woman smiled craftily. This was what she’d been waiting for. The shameless self-offering.
“You’ll take me on a date?”
Carrot half groaned, half sighed. Wilting, he nodded.
“I’ll take you on a date.”
“With a candle-lit dinner?”
“With a candle-lit dinner.”
“And a walk in the park?”
“And a walk in the park.”
“And you’ll sell me your soul and be my sex slave forever?”
“And I’ll sell you my soul and be yourheyheyHEY, that’s not funny, Chocolat,” Carrot’s voice
descended into a growl, followed by a smirk and a snigger, “Carrot Glace will never be tied down to just one woman!”
Chocolat’s smile broadened, “But you’ll take me on a date and buy me dinner and walk with me in the park, right?”
Carrot’s features remained somber and he managed a mute nod.
Chocolat leaned toward him, her expression domineering, “And you’ll do it with a smile on your face, riiiight?”
‘Easier said than done,’ Carrot’s mind said.
“Sure,” Carrot’s mouth said.
“Okay,” Chocolat finally said, giving in, “I’ll do it, but I’m only doing it for you,” A sudden frown then darkened her features, “Gods I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. You know, this is a pretty fucked-up thing to do to someone, Carrot. Especially when that someone is your own little brother.”
“I know, I KNOW,” the black-haired youth lamented, throwing his hands up in the air, “But it’s gotta be done. And it’ll be worth it, I swear. It’ll convince Marron that he’s straight. I just know it will. You’re fantastic with this kind of thing.”
Chocolat’s words were bitter, “How would you know?”
Carrot’s voice caught in his throat and the moments that followed were silent. An extremely
uncomfortable spell of silence overtook the room, nagging at the nerves of the numb-minded pair.
Thankfully, Chocolat severed the quiet with a decisive sigh.
“I’ll do it,” she said, her voice heavy and begrudging, “I’ll do it tonight.”
Carrot expressed his relief with a sigh of his own. He crossed the distance between them and gave
her a grateful pat on the shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said in earnest. Chocolat just looked at him with slightly sorrowful scarlet eyes,
saying nothing.
Disregarding her doleful expression, Carrot then motioned for his wannabe-lover to follow him as he ventured out into the sitting area, “We’d better start getting ready...” he thought aloud while pushing the coffee table toward the other side of the room, “Um, I’ll get Gateau and Tira out of the way so you two don’t have to...” Carrot’s sentence abruptly fell off a cliff. Somehow, Chocolat found herself glad it did as she adjusted the pillows on the couch.
The young man was combing his cowlicks with his fingers as he made his way back over to where Chocolat was adding her own touch-ups to make the room look more idyllic. She noticed him doing so, and memories from her years spent with him as a child came parading into her mind. Back then, it was not a rare occasion when she would bear witness to Mrs. Glace scolding her older son for committing crimes such as secretly keeping animals in his room or nicking from the cookie jar. The redhead had observed such occurrences many times, and had noticed that he always touched his hair like that when he was uneasy, or he knew that he was in for trouble.
“Uh, Chocolat?” Carrot said, botching the redhead’s nostalgic moment, “Do you have anything... you know, nicer to wear?”
Chocolat instinctively looked down at herself, though she knew very well she was wearing her usual pink top, red jacket, and black leather micro-skirt. She nodded, “Yes, I’ll go change into something more... appropriate.”
That said, she turned for her room and disappeared down the hallway. Carrot finished moving the
furniture to his liking, and flopped down on the couch. A few moments later, The light clip of heels against hardwood announced that Chocolat had changed and was ready.
Carrot lifted his head from the pillow in time to see the elder Misu stride into the sitting room,
sporting a red silk dress that fit her curves nicely, had a split up the side high enough to show all of one shapely leg as well as the black strap of her g-string underwear. The top was sleeveless, laced up the front like a corset (looped at the top for easy access, of course) and showed off her ample cleavage. She wore matching opera-style gloves, her lips were coloured to match her dress, and she had applied dark brown shadow to each lid for a stunning ‘cat-eye’ look. It was enough to slacken any man’s jaw. Even Carrot’s.
She smirked, touching a finger to her lips sensuously, “Hm, You’re ogling me, Darling. How sweet.”
Carrot almost slapped himself. Instead, he shook his head like a spooked horse and stood, trying to retain at least a little of his none too ample dignity.
“Chocolat, listen to me,” he said, his voice more deep and grave than usual, “This is really important, so you have to go through with it no matter what. My brother is good with words, but don’t let him talk you out of it, and above ALL things, do NOT tell him why you’re doing this. As far as he’s concerned, I have nothing to do with it. Got it?”
Chocolat nodded, “You just make sure my sister and Gateau aren’t anywhere near here for at least an hour. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Right,” Carrot said, picking up his jacket en route to the front door and pulling it on. He turned to the young lady who was still standing in the middle of the sitting room, watching him leave with wistful crimson eyes. He gave her a smile, “Thanks a tonne, Chocolat. I owe you big time.”
“Darling.”
Carrot froze, halfway out the front door. He poked his head back inside, “Yeah?”
A crafty smile decorated her painted lips and her tone borderlined sadistic.
“I know.”
Carrot slowly exited the cottage, shutting the door behind him and suppressing shudders that had
nothing to with the chilly night air.
It was nice, not having to sleep on the cold, hard ground for once, only to wake up still sore. When they were on assignment, such was the life of a Sorcerer Hunter. A vacation was always more than welcome in any of their minds’ eyes. However, vacations meant taking there minds off work, and focusing on... other things.
One rainy day, spent mooching around the cottage they’d rented, Chocolat had been harassing
Carrot as usual, Tira was moping while this was happening, as usual, and Marron and Gateau were acting very buddy-buddy as... not. Carrot found out at that night’s supper that Marron had decided that he wanted to try for a relationship of some sort with the blond gorilla, and that they had scheduled their first date. Said date was taking place this very evening, in the local village. Tira had tagged along, saying that she wanted to check out the market, but in truth, it was a means of escape. She simply was sick and tired of watching her sister slithering all over the man she secretly adored...
Speak of the devil.
The aforementioned Misu momentarily appeared, followed by Gateau who was walking beside the younger Glace brother...
... and holding his hand.
Carrot wanted to crawl under a rock. He was actually entertaining the idea until Tira’s words slapped a road block in front of his train of thought.
“Hey, Carrot. What are you doing out here?”
“Huh?” Carrot said dazedly, tearing his eyes away from the garden where sat the large boulder that he’d considered diving under, “Oh yeah... heh,” he shook his head, laughing before plastering an all-too broad grin all over his face, “I was just thinking...”
Quietly, Gateau muttered, “Ooo, that must hurt.”
Marron gave the older man a reprimanding look and a gentle shove in the ribs.
“... did you guys seen that new store in the village?” Carrot continued, apparently not having heard the warrior’s snide remark, “Lots of bondage gear,” a nervous gulp, “Neato stuff.”
“Wow-keen,” Gateau thought aloud, disregarding Marron’s presence as he added, “Now that I’ve got a date, I’ll want some ‘toys’.”
Marron’s brow twitched. The mage then very calmly bent his head and placed a rather nasty chomp upon Gateau’s arm.
“Ow!” The bigger man yelped, slapping a hand over the offended bicep, “Damn, Marron! Since when do you bite?!” under his breath he added, “little bitch.”
“I heard that, Gateau,” Marron said, his usual smooth, flawless voice tainted faintly with a warning, “I can and will do it again.”
“Save it for after I get back from the bondage-shoppe,” the blond beefcake smiled, giving Marron a sexy wink.
The younger man shuddered.
“Get a room, you two,” Carrot grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Gateau smirked, “I plan on it.”
As Carrot was opening his mouth to say something in response to that, the crunch of gravel under feet announced the arrival of another. An all-too recognizable figure trotted into view.
Marron made several noises of protest as Carrot tried to hide in his little brother’s robes.
“Caaaaarrot-deeeeaaar!” the familiar falsetto sang into the night. The voilet-haired captain of the
Haz Knights laughed cheerfully, swinging a little basket at his hip, “Lovie! Aren’t we kinky tonight.”
Carrot frowned up at Milphey, poking his head out from his refuge within the white robes where he had wedged himself between his little brother’s legs. Marron, who looked immensely disturbed, said nothing. His eyes, however, spoke volumes, mostly saying, “I am not going to scream. I am not going to scream...”
Looking not a little miffed, Tira cleared her throat, “So nice to see you too, Milphey. What brings you here?”
“I’m offering felicitations,” the knight chuckled, turning to Gateau and Marron, “I heard you two
finally went on a date,” he beamed, smiling brightly as he held the basket handle with both hands at chin-level, “So I brought you some tea!”
“broughtemsometeawhatafruitcake,” Carrot grumbled, climbing out of his brother’s robes, much to Marron’s relief.
“Can we go now?” Carrot asked lamely, dusting himself off and looking bored.
“Absolutely not!” Tira snapped, crossing her arms, “I know you. You’ll just end up drooling all over the shoppe filled with posters of scantily-clad sluts until I knock you out cold for being an ass and then I’ll have to drag your sorry butt all the way home.”
Carrot gulped. She wasn’t buying it. Action was called for.
The younger Misu let out a little squeak of surprise as the elder Glace slid an arm around her waist and smiled sweetly at her, “Please Tira?” he begged, giving her goo-eyes, “I won’t make a scene. All your other battle outfits are old and beat-up. I just wanted to see you looking beautiful in something new.”
Tira’s eyes suddenly lit up behind her glasses. Carrot then felt a painful twinge for being such a
simpering half-ass. He knew he shouldn’t be taking advantage of her affections and he felt bad for
doing it, but he remembered that he had a job to do. Drawing his features into the most pitiful
puppy-face he could muster, he looked at her imploringly.
“Pwease?”
Tira heaved a sigh of defeat, “Alright... Alright...”
Milphey blinked, “Where are you going?”
“A bondage-shoppe” Gateau answered.
The knight’s golden eyes lit up and a wide grin spread across his face, “Ooo, sounds like
smashing-good fun! Mind if I tag along?”
Carrot was about to reply that he DID mind, but he didn’t want the knight mooching around the
cottage at the time, either.
“You can come.”
“Yay!”
“But don’t you try anything funny!” Carrot warned, thrusting an accusing finger in Milphey’s general direction, “One weird move and I’ll scream ‘rape!’”
Gateau coughed, “ACHEM! Ah, yeah. We should get going. It’s late and all...” he turned to Marron, giving him a gentle but subliminally eager smile, “You gonna come too?”
“I think not,” Marron said, his voice portraying his desire to retain his all-too-ample dignity. No hot bondage fun for the cute little virgin, no no no...
“Party-pooper,” Gateau commented mildly, placing his arms around Marron’s middle, “I’ll be back soon then...”
Carrot observed every little detail carefully out of the corner of his eye, taking mental notes...
...Gateau hugs him, he doesn’t hug back...
...Gateau kisses him, but not on the lips. On the forehead. Maybe, HOPEFULLY Marron’s said that he wants to take things slowly)...
... He doesn’t kiss him back, but when Gateau nuzzles him, he does the same thing in return...
... Wup, there he goes, he finally hugged him back (if placing his hands on Gateau’s arms can be
called hugging, that is)...
Carrot swallowed against the guilty ache that he felt welling up inside. While the term ‘lovers’ with all its implications, did not seem like an accurate name for their relationship, it was clear that his little brother and that pea-brained git did indeed have feelings for each other. By the gods...
Carrot shook his head, “Well, if we’re going, let’s go already, ne?”
The trio of hunters walked off (with Milphey bouncing along at their heels), leaving Marron alone at the entrance to the cottage. Suspicion snaked though his mind. Why would Carrot of all people want to go to a bondage store? Something was amiss. The sour scent of a scheme lingered in the air. Shuddering a little, Marron turned and went inside.
The click of the door closing behind him was magnified by the sheer emptiness of the cottage. Wary eyes the colour of ink flitted left and right, surveying the changed layout of the room. The pillows on the couch had been placed at ideal angles, as if by the hands of an ungodly perfectionist. The coffee table and twin easy chairs had been pushed to the other side of the room against the wall, making the sitting area look considerably larger. A fire danced in the fireplace, casting pallid gold streamers of light across the hardwood floor. There were myriads of lit candles laid out along the edges of the room and beside the couch, making Marron feel under the impression that he had entered a shrine of some sort. The fire, being the only active aspect of the room, was a brusque contrast to the blood-chilling stillness that felt almost encumbering to the lone occupant. Suspicion welled within him. His hand shook only slightly as he instinctively reached for his wards. His hand did not make it very far, for another was already there.
The mage emitted a startled cry as a pair of slender arms encircled his waist, a pair of familiar but
nevertheless frightening hands mapping silkily over the fabric of his clothing. A mild, dulcet chuckle that was more of a purr issued from behind.
“Are you afraid, Baby-Glace?”
Marron’s heart leapt for his throat. Perhaps he would have been able to dart out of her grasp and
flick a ward like lightning had the voice been a foreign one. The words however were of someone
who was no stranger to him. They were those of a friend. And that was exactly what paralyzed him so.
“Ch-Chocolat?” he inquired, not caring that his voice shook.
“Me,” she agreed, sniffing sensuously at his hair.
Marron inhaled sharply, his breath shaking with the shudders that wracked his slender frame. Her
voice was like velvet, her hands like silk. Such words and touches were meant for someone else. For one who shared his blood and his name, but for another, nonetheless. Such gestures were never meant for him. Not him.
He swallowed against the lump in his throat, his heart near battering his heaving ribcage.
“What are you doing?”
Chocolat nosed past a tress of hair, allowing her lips to feather against his ear when she answered.
“I want to talk to you.”
Temporary relief flooded the mage as he was released, only to have his hand taken by hers mere
seconds later.
“Come sit with me,” The redhead said quietly, leading a near-petrified Marron to the couch where she bade him sit down. He obeyed, though his submissions were more out of fear than anything else. He looked her over, noticing how she had positioned herself perfectly so that the one leg that was bared through the slit in her dress was displayed prominently up to the hip, which had a line of subtle red indents where the strap of her panties had pressed against her flesh. He made a point of staring at her face-to-face so as to make it clear that he was not looking at the bared portion of her busty front, the slight creases of tight red satin accenting her anatomy. She was dressed as a temptress, that much was for sure. The thought sent lightning down Marron’s spine and iced his blood. Oh gods.
“Marron, indulge me,” Chocolat said, fixing him with molten velvet eyes that were like a vampire’s to the heart, “Is my... Darling...” her heart clenched at the pet name which had left her lips with ease countless times previously. She remembered that she had an act and an end of the bargain to keep up, so she did not allow her conviction to show, “... correct when he says that you don’t like girls?”
Marron swallowed against the intangible blockage in his throat, “I... I really don’t know how to
answer that,” he said truthfully, though his voice flaked slightly as would had he been fibbing.
Chocolat gave him a look that was between pouting and piteous.
“You’ve never... been with a woman,” she stated softly. Marron nodded numbly. She exhaled gently, inwardly disgusted and almost unable to believe what she was about to do.
“Have you ever seen a woman before?”
“No,” Marron answered quietly, “I do not think...”
His sentence trailed off and his heart lurched. Even as he was speaking, one crimson-nailed hand
had risen to the front of the red dress and was untying the loose knot in the laces.
Overcome by a mixture of dread and shock, Marron averted his eyes as the redhead slowly loosened and lowered the front of her dress. Out of the corner of his eye, the mage could see the blurred shape of his accomplice’s bared upper body. It was more than he ever wanted to see. However, he had a sinking feeling that if he stayed, he would have little choice in the matter.
Just as he was contemplating getting up from the couch and excusing himself to go to the restroom (he could climb out the window from there), his wrist was circled by a gentle, but nonetheless predatory hand.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Because...” Marron struggled for words, “I... just... do not want to.”
“Hmmm..” Chocolat murmured almost contemplatively, “I see. Well then... Since you don’t want to look... Would you like to touch?”
Marron opened his mouth to utter a quick and easy ‘No, thank you,’ but what came out was a small noise of protest when he felt his hand being guided upward to come to a rest upon something unmistakably round and soft. He tried not to think about it.
“There now, is that so bad?” Chocolat purred.
“I... wouldn’t describe it as ‘bad’”, Marron said guardedly, still refusing to look up.
Chocolat’s conscience screamed in agony. She hated herself for putting a friend through this. What she could see of Marron’s down turned face thrust a dagger of guilt into her gut. Had she not seen it for herself, she would never have believed that the stoic mage’s ever-smooth features could be so riddled with confliction. Seeing was believing. Believing tore at her heart. Not to mention she was touching and being touched in ways that she hadn’t wanted to do or be with anyone except Carrot. It hurt her terribly, but she remembered the promise her beloved had made to her. Squashing any last qualms she had and bolstering her will with thoughts of the rewards, Chocolat remembered that time was critical and she did not have much to spare. It was time for step two. Her free hand found his thigh.
His heart cried as he wished with every atom of his soul for that hand that slithered up the inside of his leg to be much larger, slower to come onto him, eager, but willing to wait for further instruction. Above all, he wished that it belonged to someone else. Rather, the fingers were small and sure. They were bold, disturbingly eager, and quick to overwhelm him. It was a hand that he did not want to guide with his own, let alone touch or be touched by, period. Above all else, this hand did not belong to Gateau.
And still, he thrilled at the contact. He nearly wept.
When the aforementioned hand found its way beneath his clothing and began to touch him more
intimately, Chocolat could not help but laugh upon seeing how his body responded.
“A virgin,” she commented quietly, her ministrations ceasing for the moment.
“Wh-what?” Marron managed to utter, however staggered his simple inquiry might have been.
“You’re a virgin, Marron,” Chocolat repeated herself more thoroughly, narrowing her eyes and
smiling craftily, “Only someone who’s never been touched squirms like that.”
Heat crept over the younger man and he knew that a faint hint of crimson was colouring his high
cheekbones. As Chocolat’s skilled fingers began deftly undoing the clasps of his cheongsam, he
finally decided to take some action. His hands clamped gently over hers.
“Chocolat please...” he started, unsure where he was going with his sentence. Not entirely sure why he chose to say it, or where he was going with it, a name left his lips, “Gateau...”
“Ah, him,” Chocolat nodded knowingly, “He’s quite taken with you, isn’t he? This was your first date with him, wasn’t it?”
Marron managed a single nod.
Chocolat half-smiled in an almost evil way, “But you haven’t slept with him. You haven’t given
anyone that honour. Not yet,” secretly cursing herself a million times, Chocolat slowly removed her entire dress, never taking her eyes off of Marron, who could not help but watch.
The scarlet fabric fell in folds upon the floor. Sliding smoothly across the couch like a cobra
advancing upon its paralyzed prey, Chocolat inched toward Marron, who looked absolutely terrified. She held him with her gaze as she quickly undid the final clasp. Opening the cheongsam, she stroked down his newly bared chest, evoking a moan that was more of a whimper.
Her fiery eyes blazed seductively as she gently and subtly forced him on his back, leaning over him and bringing her lips to his ear.
“I would love to be your first.”
Marron shut his eyes, trying to convince himself that none of it was real...
The bangs that tickled his forehead were not red. Nor were the eyes that seared his soul. No. Surely, he would open his eyes and find the hair to be a sun-kissed, honey-blonde colour and the eyes... calm, soothing to look into, and blue and unfathomable as the sky. The hands that slid up and down his torso couldn’t have been small and smooth. If he pinched himself, he would wake to feel the comfortingly rough texture of calloused fingertips and palms, broad and strong, but ever so gentle...
Alas, no.
It was not a dream, nor was it a nightmare in the sense that he could wake up to find himself safe in his own bed. It was very real. The monsters in the closet did exist, and they walked beside him, calling themselves his friends.
Enough was enough.
Not caring anymore that Chocolat was his friend and he would never knowingly bring harm upon her, he slowly reached for a ward. A simple stun spell would knock her out quickly and in a relatively painless-
She kissed him.
“Annnnnghh!” Marron made a noise of protest against her lips, which dominated his own. It was a struggle on Chocolat’s part not to choke when she couldn’t help reminding herself that this was not her Darling’s mouth she was delving into. The fact that he was the brother of her Darling and
therefore not really a far cry from the real McCoy salved her ache, even if only slightly. She
continued working her mouth against his, feeling his muscles loosen, and his struggle cease. When
she slowly and carefully released him, his head fell back against the pillow, his breathing soft and
even. His eyes closed and his brow knit, his body supine and submissive. She smiled to herself.
He was hers.
And so was Darling.
~II~
“Are we there yet...?” Carrot griped, trying to look bored, his shoulders sagging.
Gateau smirked over his shoulder, cheerfully swinging the bag containing his purchase at his side,
“Do you see the house?”
“No.”
“Do you hear the house?”
“No.”
“Do you smell the house?”
“NO!”
“Then we must not be at the house,” Gateau said, laughing, a no-shit-sherlock grin stamped all over his face. Glaring at the back of the blond’s head, Carrot extended his middle finger.
“Put that away, Carrot!” Tira scolded, giving him a good wallop with her bag. Under her breath she added, “You’ll give Milphey ideas.”
The aforementioned ass-flamer was skipping merrily beside Gateau, a sizable bag held fast in one
feminine hand. Carrot couldn’t help but laugh.
“You know, Tira,” the elder Glace said, changing the subject and gesturing toward the bag that had just seconds ago collided with his head, “You looked really pretty in that.”
Tira’s frown was instantly replaced by a look of shocked delight.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Carrot answered, realizing with a bit of surprise that he was actually saying something
honest tonight. There was something else too. She didn’t smile at him very often, for she was usually too busy bitching at him or abusing him in some way for being a heartless sex hound. Now, something about seeing her full, rouge-pink lips curved into a smile for him warmed his heart.
“I’d like to see it on you again.” he said truthfully, not sure whether he was referring to her smile, or what he had bought her at the shoppe. Of course she assumed it was the latter.
Tira smiled, “Well you don’t have long to wait. Look,”
Carrot’s gaze followed the path of her index finger as Tira pointed to their cottage, which stood only a few hundred yards away.
When the party of four reached the house, Tira, much to Carrot’s horror, was the first one inside.
There was momentarily a shriek that could have shattered even the sturdiest of windows.
“What is THIS?!”
“Oh gods...” Carrot thought to himself, his blood turning to ice. He quickly joined Tira in the doorway, dreading what he would see when he looked in the direction of the sofa. Upon the soft plush cushions lay
... an assortment of pillows
... and a very wrinkled blanket
Carrot nearly collapsed with relief as Tira stormed inside.
“Why is all the furniture over there! Whoever moved it scratched the floor BIG time!” Tira ranted, appraising the floorboards through her glasses, “And what is WITH all these candles? They’re getting wax all over the place!”
“HnChocolatn’MarronmustberedecoratingcomeonTirawannaseeyouwearingthing!” Carrot babbled hastily, grabbing her arm and dragging her upstairs, “Come on, come on then!”
Gateau and Milphey watched the two clumsily ascend the staircase. When the redhead and the
zoanthrope had disappeared from view, Gateau laughed out loud.
“Didn’t I tell you man? Didn’t I? I TOLD YOU they would do it soon!”
“You said THAT two months ago, you stupid arse,” Milphey frowned, but laughed nevertheless.
Gateau wiped a tear from his eye, “Aw, don’t be a baby about it, Milphey. A bet’s a bet, now pay up!”
“Bugger,” the Knight swore before begrudgingly handing Gateau a monetary note, which the warrior accepted with gusto.
As they were walking down the dark hallway, the dark-haired youth was immensely relieved upon seeing the door to Chocolat’s room suitably shut and undoubtably locked. ‘Hn... At least Chocolat had enough sense to take it upstairs and finish the job behind closed doors,’ Carrot thought to himself, shuddering at the idea of coming home to find a very nude pair of Hunters sprawled out in compromising positions on the sofa...
“Carrot,” Tira asked, looking at her fellow Hunter suspiciously, “Are you drunk?”
Carrot nearly leapt when she addressed him, “No,” he said, frowning, “Why?”
“Because you passed my door a million years ago,” Tira said matter-of-factly, smirking, “It’s all the way back there.”
“Oh.. Yeah, oh course it is! HA HA HA HA!”
Tira looked at him with mild concern, “Something on your mind, Carrot?”
“Nothing... important... Really,” Carrot said innocently.
The girl shrugged, turning the doorknob to her room, “Alright,”
The odd duo entered the Tira-territory of the cottage. There were some items that might have been considered ‘questionable’ lying around (thigh-high boots, leather thongs, whips, and the lot), but it was Tira, after all. Other than that, the room was pretty much spotless, and half lit with a somewhat weak desk lamp.
Carrot flopped down on her bed (which was already mussed seeing as Tira had forgotten to make it that morning) and sighed staring at the ceiling, and listening the crinkling noises of the paper bag as Tira retrieved her purchase.
“Um... Carrot?”
The brown-eyed youth turned over on his side to face the young woman, whose fingers were already set upon the the buttoned flap that held her dress closed, ready to undo it.
“Yeah?”
Crimson eyes darted to the side and a faint blush coloured both cheeks, “... Do you mind...?”
“No,” Carrot said on impulse. Nanoseconds later, he swatted himself as he realized that she’d been asking for privacy, “Uh, I mean, yeah, I’m going. Sorry,” He sputtered, pulling himself off the bed and skulking out of the room, closing the door behind him.
He leaned against the wall, sighing, as if it would ease his troubled mind. The silence in the dark
hallway was thick and heavy. As noxious as it was, Carrot was somehow glad of it. Namely because he did not hear any suggestive noises coming from Chocolat’s room. He had a feeling his heart might’ve stopped if he did...
“It’s okay Carrot. You can look now.”
Carrot, who was more than willing to step out of the haunting silence of the hallway, turned the knob and opened the door, stepping inside Tira’s room.
He froze before he had a chance to close the door. His jaw dropped.
The shining red leather covered little more than the essentials and left less to the imagination.
Between the g-stringed bottom half and the shoulderless/strapless top half, her slender waist was
webbed with red fishnets, as were her legs, for the piece came with matching garters. The cups in
the cross-laced top emphasized her cleavage, underneath the triangle of red fishnet which attached
the bodysuit to a red leather collar complete with spikes and a bondage ring. A plaited fishtail
extended from the back of the bottom half, draping elegantly over her hindquarters, the pointed end stopping just before the tops of her red knee-high boots. Ruby eyes blinked shyly from below the ample bangs of her hair, which fell in soft, scarlet waves about her shoulders.
Carrot didn’t realize the extent of the force with which he was clutching the steel handle until he
nearly ripped it clean out of the door. Grinning like the space-muffin he was, the zoanthrope slowly closed the door before he could do any kind of costly damage to it.
Tira giggled softly, “You like it, Carrot?”
Carrot found himself nodding so hard he thought his head might fall right off. He stopped it by
dazedly lifting a hand and seizing a fistful of his black cowlicks, “Yeah...” he almost sighed. Then a sudden thought zipped through his mind like summer lightning, ‘Since when am I this gooey for
TIRA? And in BONDAGE garb no less!’ Carrot stomped on his own foot to bring himself back to reality, “HA-YEEEEOW!!! I mean, Hell YEAH! Heh, I bought it for you with my last paycheck, didn’t I? Ha ha ha. I’m not gonna have a full meal for a month! HA HA HA HA!!!”
Tira couldn’t help but laugh mildly at the young man’s antics. What a goof. Without really thinking, she went right up and hugged him.
“Thanks, Carrot.”
Carrot felt his throat knot with dread, “Hey hey hey, now...” he said warily. He was afraid, but
somehow he couldn’t bring himself to push her away.
“I didn’t buy that as an excuse for you to attack me, you know.”
Tira looked up at him sweetly, “I know. And I won’t.”
“Besides,” Carrot added, smiling craftily, “Your whip doesn’t match this one.”
Tira laughed lightly against his chest. He shivered a little and his heartbeat accelerated when he felt her snuggling against him.
“Nah,” he added, unable to help noticing that his voice was a bit squeakier than normal, “I think you should just wear this one to look pretty for me.”
The proverbial bunch of butterflies had burst in Tira’s stomach. Her heart was like a hummingbird in her ribcage. ‘Carrot... does this mean...?’
“You really think so?”
“Yeah,” Carrot confirmed, alarmed to find himself housing the second half of the butterfly parade, “I mean, screw those black leather things. I guess I really like this one because I know you’re not wearing because you’re about to attack me. Besides, red looks really good on you.”
She couldn’t suppress the sigh that the set of fingers sliding along her jaw evoked. Carrot tilted her head so that he could look upon her face, somehow finally able to appreciate her beauty.
“...Must be those eyes,” he thought out loud.
The aforementioned pools of liquid ruby sparkled. Tira managed a tiny smile, “Carrot...”
A cold stab of ‘what the hell?!’ suddenly impaled Carrot’s mind. Why, in the name of all that was holy, was he leading her on like this? Is was beyond wrong. Besides, the job was done. He could bugger off and Tira would be none the wiser. But he was too deep into it now. The way she looked at him, gazing into his eyes with her own beautiful scarlet ones...
He could not back out without breaking her heart. There was no turning back without an ending in tears. He knew he had to keep it up, for both their sakes...
...and he was shocked out of his socks and to an extent delighted when he realized he didn’t mind
doing so.
Hours spent at her side passed slowly and sweetly like molasses.
He didn’t mind at all...
The elder Glace shivered a little as he was roused from his slumber by a tiny, tickling sensation. He was soon to realize that what he’d felt was the flutter of his waking mate’s eyelashes against the soft skin of his throat.
Tira slowly lifted her head, her sleepy eyes ruby-red and sparkling in the morning sunshine that
streamed through the window. Carrot blinked. How could he have been so crass as to disregard such sweet eyes and angelic beauty for all those years? It could have had something to with her habit of wearing those enormous round sunglasses all the time... ‘No excuses accepted’, he thought, mentally and good-humouredly chastising himself.
Carrot smiled.
“ ‘Morning.”
Tira smiled gently down at her beloved, making Carrot temporarily forget that she had any kind of a violent or aggressive side at all.
“Good Morning, my Love.”
“Sleep well?” Carrot asked, though he felt he was certain of the answer.
Tira’s eyes glittered mischievously as she cuddled up to him, tucking her head underneath his chin.
“Of course, silly.”
“Hm,” Carrot said in response, his hand petting her hair on its own volition as he turned his face to sunlight that was pouring in through the gap in the drapes, enjoying the warmth of the golden rays not nearly as much as that of the embrace.
“Carrot?”
“Yeah?” he said, acknowledging the small inquiry from below his chin.
“You know the Day of Roses is next weekend, right?” Tira asked gently.
“Mm-hmm,” Carrot answered, resisting the urge to nod, due to the head that was situated just below his own. Of course he knew that it was next weekend. How could he forget the annual Lovers’ Festival when he had been wishing for someone to celebrate it with for gods-only-know how long?
“Well,” Tira continued, “When they do the Declaration Ceremony, I’m going to say your name.”
Carrot felt tears in his eyes. “Aaaaw, Tira,” He grinned broadly and wrapped his arms around the
younger girl, giving her an affectionate squeeze. The Declaration Ceremony... when couples lined up in the town square and one by one stepped up to the podium to announce the name of the one they loved. Chocolat had done this many times before by herself, of course saying Carrot’s name, or rather ‘Darling.’ To think that someone (besides Chocolat) would finally stand up to say Carrot’s name tickled him pink. But at the same time, it resurrected the troubles had haunted his dreams in the night... Chocolat. They would have to tell her of their newfound love before the Declaration Ceremony (hardly fair to have her find out then). Either way, it would break her heart. This fact Carrot knew all too well and he was greatly saddened by the idea of losing the affections and friendship of a very special lady. How to tell her as painlessly as possible...?
Carrot decided he would ponder his trifles at a later time, rather than let them take away from these precious moments of intimacy. Recalling Tira’s statement, he laughed, “Well, you’re going have to shout really loud.”
He could feel her lips against his neck curving into a smile, “Why?”
“’Cause if you don’t, no one’ll be able to hear you while I’m shouting, ‘I LOVE TIRA MISU!’ ”
Tira emitted a small sound of delight and snuggled against him. As he was contemplating whether or not to slip a finger under her chin and tilt her head upward for a kiss, the door opened.
“Hey Tira, have you seen my h-?”
Carrot froze, gaping in stricken horror at an equally rigid Chocolat. Recalling the incident, he would swear that his eyes were as big as saucers. Saying nothing, Chocolat closed the door behind her with a clean, unquiet slam, and the hollow footfalls that followed indicated that she was marching moodily down the stairs.
Carrot let out an anguished groan as he hastily and gracelessly moved off the bed, unintentionally
jostling a speechless Tira.
“I’m- I- be right back,” He stammered, struggling with his slacks as he stumbled out the door. He’d barely gotten his pants suitably on his person when he caught up with a very contemptuous elder Misu.
“Chocolat-”
“Why do you think I’m killing myself? Do you think I’m having fun?! I do this for YOU.”
The redhead wheeled around to face him, her expression and tone making it clear to him that she
was more than furious, “You can forget about our deal. I hope for your sake that your brother is
more understanding than I am when he learns what a scumbag you are, Carrot Glace!”
With that, the redhead turned on her heel and left in a huff, leaving Carrot feeling as thought his
heart had turned to lead.
When Carrot returned to Tira’s room, the younger sister immediately noticed the hurt and guilt in his eyes, the stiff falter in his stride...
She asked quietly, “Carrot, what’s going on?”
The closest thing to a response she received was Carrot wrapping his arms tightly around her,
holding Tira to him as he sobbed heavily into her hair.
Marron was sitting in bed reading when Chocolat burst through the door and stormed in. Needless to say, he was suitably alarmed when she threw herself on the bed (knocking into him brusquely though unintentionally as she did so) and wept loudly into the pillow.
Marron immediately put the book away and turned his attention to the girl who was sobbing noisily at his side.
“Chocolat?” he inquired softly, genuinely concerned, “What’s wrong?”
“Ynm brfwf nh hn ffft-ht!” she wailed incoherently, the pillow serving as a muffler and severely
distorting her voice.
“I beg your pardon?”
The redhead yanked her face out of the pillow and glared at Marron, her eyes red-rimmed and
brimming with tears, “I said,” she stated slowly, but nonetheless furiously, “Your brother. is. a. shit. head.”
Marron cocked an eyebrow, taken aback by her blunt and rather abrasive answer, “Chocolat...?”
“He uses everyone! He uses me!” Chocolat lamented loudly, pummeling the pillow with her fists, “He’s a crap-eating bastard! If I hadn’t lost my hat, I would transform right now and beat the snot out of him!”
“Calm down, Chocolat,” Marron said softly, putting a hand on her back in an effort to ease her,
“What do you mean he’s using everyone?”
Chocolat took a deep breath, shaking under the strain of trying to suppress several hysterical sobs. She poured the whole awful story out to Marron, between those sobs that managed to hitch her speech. She told him everything.
Marron felt numb to the core. He stared at Chocolat, watching her blot her eyes and wipe away the dark trails of mascara her tears had left on her face. He watched in dumb silence as the one whom he thought had shown him love wept for her other love, the love that had betrayed them both.
“Why did you do it, Chocolat?” Marron did not mince words. He saw no need to do so. Everything was out, now. There was nothing words could soften. There was nothing to hide.
“Why, you ask?” Chocolat said, traces of rage bubbling within her tear-drenched words, “Because he asked me to. And it was the one time he ever returned my love. The one time he didn’t push me away. For once, I felt like he wanted me,” she gasped against a bitter sob, “and that was worth everything.”
“I see,” Marron said, his voice like stone, void of the hurt and anger he felt knotting in his heart, “So that’s why you lied. You threw our friendship to the winds for a short, sweet interlude with my brother.”
“No, Marron, that’s not-”
“You cry because you were used... And yet you used me just the same.”
“...You don’t understand,” Chocolat protested, the stark truth of Marron’s words like sandpaper on her nerves, “I-I had to do it.”
Marron nodded once, continuing in the same cold, soulless voice, “Yes. You were starved for
affection, and the beast was finally fed. It came at a price, but you were more than willing to make the sacrifice. One sweaty roll with a friend is no skin off your nose, is it now?”
A splash of acid on the open wound. Rage overcame the red-head and she struck Marron across the face, violently throwing him off her bed.
“Get out, you whoresonning faggot! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!!”
Marron calmly picked himself up off the floor and strode out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Chocolat glared at the door for a few tense seconds before she broke down, weeping fully and
fitfully.
Gateau was sitting on the edge of the mattress, bent over and topless, buckling one of his boots (the other was already on his left foot). Upon seeing a shadow invade the light of the doorway, the warrior looked up.
“Hello, Beautiful.”
The smile was warm, adoring and charming. Marron felt an ache in his heart at the sight of it. Oh
Gateau... How to explain?
“We need to talk.” Marron said simply, quietly.
“Okay,” Gateau put his suitably booted foot back on the floor, “So what is it?”
Marron slowly entered the room. Gateau noticed, with a certain degree of alarm, that the young
mage’s face was a shade paler than usual and his dark black eyes seemed even darker, if that was
at all possible.
“Gateau, may I... sit down?”
“Oh, of course,” Gateau replied, patting the mattress. Marron carefully lowered himself onto the
offered seat. The younger man shrank away when he felt a friendly and familiar but foreboding
forearm come to a rest about his shoulders. It summoned painful recollections.
“Don’t... Please.”
A little hurt, Gateau obediently withdrew his arm. He was worried at this point, “What’s the matter, love?”
“I’m...” Marron bit his lip, “...about to tell you that,” he took a deep breath, “About last night...”
“Yeah, where were you?” Gateau inquired, not realizing right away that he was interrupting, “I
missed you.”
“I was...” the young man swallowed, hating how his heart tightened with guilt, “...with Chocolat... In her room... In bed with her.”
The sweetness and smile drained from Gateau’s face, “What...?”
“She slept with me,” Marron said quietly, lowering his head, hiding behind his hair.
Gateau’s mind suddenly when blank, save for the black treachery creeping along its corners. He
couldn’t move or speak. Jeezus, the guy was blunt. There was no whining, no outburst, no rain of tears, not any sort of cliche prelude at all. He had just come right out and said it. Then again, that was Marron for you.
Still, it made the wound sting no less. Hurt welled up in the form of hot tears behind Gateau’s eyes. These he swiftly brushed away with the back of a gloved hand before they could become too obvious.
“But you... and I... I mean,” Gateau struggled, frustration starting to stamp along his shock, “After our first date...?”
Marron nodded solemnly, “I know, and I‘m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t want to. I just... did.”
Gateau was silent, to stunned do more than stare at Marron with a shocked blankness in his blue
eyes.
“It was all a sham,” Marron said quickly, as if it would help his situation, “She was only using me to get to my brother. Carrot asked her to sleep with me. He... thought it would convince me that I was not... that way...” Marron was forced to pause, for he nearly choked on his next words. However painful it would be, he could tell no lies. Gateau deserved the truth, “... I couldn’t fight her. She was a powerful temptress, and she had me like a worm on a hook. I tried... I struggled for a long time, but she kissed me... And after that...By the gods, I loved it. Every moment that followed. I loved it.”
Strong fingers dug into the edge of the mattress, fixing to tear it open. Gateau could feel himself
shaking with something very close to rage.
“So, what are you saying?” the warrior started as calmly as possible, “That you’re bi? You’re
straight? You don’t like me anymore? What?”
“I honestly don’t know, Gateau,” Marron said quietly, “I just felt you should know the truth. And there is one more thing you should know.”
“Oh?”
“I was...” Marron toyed with a loose thread on his cheongsam, unable to meet the grief-stricken eyes of his accomplice, “... When we did it, I was thinking about you the entire time.”
Gateau didn’t know how to respond to this. One side of him was flattered. The other side was simply more angered by this. Anger prevailed.
“Well, if you really wanted to have sex with me, then why didn’t you push her away and wait for me?” Gateau asked, his voice shaking with hurt, “Is one screw as good as the next for you?”
Marron made a sharp offended noise at this, standing from his seat and fixing Gateau with a frown, “Gateau, it was my first time. And she practically raped me.”
“But you liked it,” Gateau countered contemptuously, also standing, “You said so yourself. You’d happily do it again if I wasn’t around, wouldn’t you?”
Marron opened his mouth to answer. Nothing came out. He bowed his head in shame. Gateau heaved a disgusted sigh.
“Seven HELLS, Marron, why won’t you just say it right out that you want me to leave you the hell alone?!”
”Because...” Marron faltered, his words leaping ahead of his thoughts, “You would get upset and pitch a fit over it.”
Gateau frowned, “I would not. I’m a little more mature than that.”
“Oh are you?” Marron said more than asked, his frustration finally getting the better of him, “If you are really all that mature, then why didn’t you leave me alone from the start when I didn’t respond? You just kept nagging and chasing like a stupid school girl even though I made it clear I wasn’t interested,” this last statement drew a parallel in his mind and triggered a final outburst that he didn’t really mean to say.
“You’re no better than Chocolat!”
Gateau snatched his tank top from where it was hanging on the bedpost.
“Fuck you.”
The eyes and words were like ice as Gateau shoved past Marron, brusquely though unintentionally knocking against the mage’s shoulder for he was so enraged, he could hardly see where he was going.
Slamming the door behind him, Gateau yanked his shirt on and stormed down the hallway, heading straight for the door. He didn’t even notice the Haz Knight standing nearby until he spoke.
“Oi, Gateau!” Milphey chirped cheerfully,”Have you seen my new pink scarf?”
“Oh, piss on your scarf.”
Milphey watched wide-eyed, more shocked than offended, as the warrior passed him and stomped out the door. Curious, the knight trotted outside and caught up to him.
~III~
“If trees could cry...” Milphey mused shaking his head, not sure as to with whom/what his
sympathies lay as he looked on from a safe distance.
Gateau let out what was between a snarl and a cry of fury as he plunged his fist into the already
splintered wood once again, nearly making a clean tunnel through the trunk of the otherwise sturdy oak.
The sun was setting, coaxing long shadows like witches’ fingers out from the bases of the trees, and tinging the sky with marmalade. The diminishing light had turned the grass a dark, earthy green, and every now and again, a jay would call out for its mate. It would have all been very peaceful and idyllic were it not for the enraged presence named ‘Gateau’ that was expelling his anger in such violent ways, and creating a terrific din while doing so.
“Gateau, in the name of all that is holy, STOP. The tree is dead,” Milphey said good-humouredly, uncrossing his arms and taking a cautious couple of steps toward the infuriated man.
Obediently albeit begrudgingly, Gateau ceased his assault. Heaving a sigh that could hardly be
described as ‘wistful’, the warrior had a seat upon the trunk of a tree that he’d felled previous to his attack on the oak. Elbows resting on his thighs, he let one hand dangle between his knees while he held his head with the other. His heavy, grief-laiden breathing toed the fine line between panting and sobbing.
The Haz Knight crossed the remaining distance across the clearing and had a seat next to Gateau,
saying nothing. Ever the wise and knowing, Milphey decided that if there was something Gateau
wanted to speak to him about, he would let the blond man put in the first word, so he would know how to talk to him in the best possible way. This route was also safe because if Gateau did not want to talk, Milphey wouldn’t bother him. It had been the Knight’s experience that while mutual silence was awkward, it could be a blessing between the right people.
Gateau, however, did indeed choose to speak after a few very heavy minutes had passed. He almost growled the words, but he sounded more miserable than angry.
“I hate him.”
Milphey resisted the urge to snort, “No you don’t, Gateau.”
The anger was more evident this time, “Yes I do. I hate his guts.”
Incredulous, and almost cocky, “Oh really?”
Gateau frowned, his eyes like cold sapphires as he glared at the toes of his boots. A single sharp nod was the response he offered.
“Hn,” Milphey said, narrowing his eyes at Gateau, who refused to look up.
“Well, then that does put a damper on things, now doesn’t it,” the knight said through a sigh, “So, let’s see what we have so far... From what you told me, Marron cheated on you with Chocolat. Chocolat snogged Marron after he returned from your date with him. Marron told you that Chocolat only snogged him because Carrot told her to. Chocolat was two-timing between Marron and Carrot. Chocolat dumped Carrot. You dumped Marron. Chocolat’s pissed at Carrot. You’re pissed at Marron,” Milphey thought aloud, counting these occurrences on his fingers as he named them.
Gateau grunted as if to say “That’s pretty much everything... The whole ball of shit.”
“Well, in this kind of situation, I would say that instead of taking your anger out on the natural
world,” Milphey said methodically, eying the four damaged trees in the clearing (two of which were more stumps than trees), “You should try to be one with the natural world.”
Gateau looked up slowly, fixing his friend with an incredulous frown, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’ve been doing this programme with Mother and she told me that when people turn their backs on you, Nature will be your friend. Nature will understand,” Milphey explained, doing his best to ignore the what-a-pile-of-shit look on Gateau’s face, “But nobody wants a friend who would just as soon put his fist through their trunk. So I want you to do some affirmations and mediative exercises with me.”
Gateau sighed, rolling his eyes, “Milphey, you know I’m no good at that stuff.”
“Just give it a try,” Milphey looked imploringly at Gateau, ”Please? For meeeee?”
An exasperated sigh of defeat, “Alright... Alright...”
“Okay then...” Milphey said, crossing his legs into the ‘lotus’ position, “Now I want you to surround yourself with Life...”
“Milphey, this is really stupid.”
“Come on, just do it.”
Taking a deep breath to bolster the little patience he had left, Gateau closed his eyes and tried to
convince himself that he was surrounded by Life, whatever the hell Milphey had meant by that. From his left, the Haz Knight continued.
“Alright, now focus on your breathing. Breathe in during the first part of the chant, and let it out
slowly during the second part,” Milphey instructed, taking a breath before beginning in an overly
sultry voice, “I am a rising mountain... I am a blooming flower...”
It took every last scrap of Gateau’s resolution to keep from bursting out laughing on the spot. How ridiculous could the knight get? He could at least identify somewhat with the mountain part, but as for the second half of the chant... Gateau was proud to say that he was about the furthest thing from a flower. However, he also knew that Milphey was only trying to help him as any true friend would. Keeping this in mind, Gateau went along with the Haz Knight’s
touchy-feely-one-with-the-universe-bullshit.
“...I am a rising mountain... I am a blooming flower...”
Milphey trilled this line a few more times before changing courses. The next step was to ring the
gong. However, due to the absence of anything remotely close to a gong, he simply picked up a
nearby stick and thwacked it against the tree trunk.
Gateau barely caught himself before he blurted, ‘What the hell...?” upon hearing the noise.
“You have become one with nature,” Milphey announced in the same slow, distant voice, “Now come
to the land of Kami with me...”
Gateau almost opened his eyes, stood up and asked where they were going. Fortunately, Milphey began chanting again, stopping him from committing any one-with-the-universe blasphemies, and making it clear that this ‘journey’ had nothing to do with walking. More spiritual crap, of course.
“Nanoo namee moo baabaa da zoo-zooooooo...”
The blond man’s knee began shaking on its own volition. It always did that when he sat down in one place for too long. One of his many quirks. He quickly slammed a hand down on the offending knee and tried to follow Milphey’s chanting (while at the same time trying not to laugh at the strange assortment of words that made up the chant).
Finishing the mantra, the Knight said, “Now we must confirm the truths for all Nature to hear. Please repeat after me; I need nobody else...”
Gateau obediently parroted the knight’s words, “I need nobody else.”
“I am big, beautiful, strong, and well enough on my own...”
“I am big, beautiful, strong, and well enough on my own.” (Gateau rather liked that one)
“And Marron is a pompous gods-forsaken closet-slut who doesn’t deserve me.”
“And Marron is a pompous gods-forsaken closet-slut who doesn’t deserve me,” Gateau repeated, mentally telling himself that he felt no twinges whatsoever by saying this. He opened his eyes and looked to his side where Milphey was smiling at him.
“Feel better?”
Part of Gateau wanted to say ‘Yes’, if only to make Milphey feel that his efforts were not in vain. But Mocha was a man who prided himself on honesty, no matter whom it might offend.
“No,” Gateau answered, feeling not a little guilty. When Milphey didn’t bat an eyelash and did not appear at all disappointed, the warrior felt slightly relieved.
“Why not?” Milphey asked casually, “You hate Marron, right? So everything you said is true, isn’t it?”
“Well, I am mad at him, but something tells me I shouldn’t be. I want to hate him...” Gateau
sighed heavily, hanging his head, “...but I just... can’t.”
The Haz Knight nodded knowingly, “You know, I’ve heard it said that you never really fall out of love. The first time you feel that sweet sting of cupid’s arrow, you never forget it. Of course you can find love in another, or just ‘get over him’, but the warmth of the first candle you held for somebody will stick in your memory for your whole life. It’s like a fire that never burns out. Nevertheless, things always work out on their own. You just have to learn to let go...” Milphey placed a comforting hand on Gateau’s shoulder, “... and Lovie, that takes time.”
Gateau said nothing. He only stared at the ground in cold, hard silence. The moments passed in this way until the blond Hunter finally decided to voice the question at the back of his mind.
“Milphey?”
“Yes, Gateau?”
“... did Big Momma really teach you that bullshit?”
To Gateau’s immense surprise, the knight laughed out loud before getting ahold of himself and
shaking his head, “Nah, I just faked it. More an attempt to make you feel better than anything else.”
Gateau snorted, “Why would you make up something like that?”
Milphey shrugged, “Think about it. If it had worked and I’d never told you that it was just nonsense off my cuff, you’d never have known the difference. Heck, you might even go so far as to try it on one of your friends when he or she was down. Either way, you would have believed, and that would make all the difference. Am I right?”
The warrior considered this, and decided Milphey was indeed right. He nodded, “Yeah. But I still don’t know what I to do.”
“Well, it’s clear that you’re in quite a pickle and I can’t help you there,” Milphey said, “But I can give you one piece of advice.”
“And what is that?”
“If he speaks, listen,” Milphey said simply, “It’s worth more than you’ll ever know.”
Gateau could only nod. Milphey smiled and gave him a bracing pat on the back, “Well, we’d better get our butts back to the cottage before the others start worrying, ne?”
That said, he rose from the tree trunk and the blond warrior followed suit. However, the violet-haired knight had not taken more than six steps before he stopped by the remains of one of Gateau’s ‘victim trees’, knelt and began gathering up some of the smaller pieces.
Gateau observed his friend, cocking a brow in query.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s going to be chilly tonight. Might as well make use of this perfectly good firewood,” Milphey explained before he rose and deposited the lot into Gateau’s much more able arms. When he spoke again, his voice was noticeably softer with a definite edge of sincerity.
“The fire... Keep it burning, okay?”
Gateau regarded his friend in silence before he nodded slowly, understanding.
“Yeah... I won’t... let the fire burn out.”
The water was dripping in the sink, sounding far away, yet resonating loudly in his ears at the same time. It hadn’t been bothersome a while ago, but now, the little plip-plip of the tap was starting to grate on his nerves.
“I’ll have to fix that... sometime...” he thought absently, not really caring enough to set a specific
date to devote to the sink. He had more... significant things on his mind.
Marron looked up at the clock on the mantle, the quartz face glare-free due to the rather insufficient lighting in the room (provided by one near-dead bulb).
Eight forty-three. There was still a good fifteen minutes or so left, should he decide to turn chicken and make a quick get-away. The young man was actually seriously considering the notion it as he eyed the open window above his desk contemplatively.
The youth’s breath caught in his throat when he heard the triple knock. The monotonous dripping was momentarily forgotten. Quietly and deftly, he opened the door and let the other man in. Gateau was silent and a certain darkness seemed to hover around him as he had a seat on the couch, slumping over and resting his elbows on his knees. Marron soon followed his example, settling down beside him.
Feeling more than just slightly awkward, Marron spoke, hating how unsteady he sounded, ”Ah, you’re early Gateau.”
“Am I?” Gateau muttered darkly, his tone making it clear that he knew, but couldn’t care less.
Marron did not like the way the blue-eyed gaze remained glued to the table top, refusing to meet his own.
“You want anything?” Marron offered absently, gesturing toward the fridge, “There’s plenty of that sushi left from supper.”
Gateau half sighed, his shoulders sinking a little, as he finally looked at Marron, his eyes a flat,
unreadable blue, “Marron,” he said, sounding somewhere between impatient and indifferent, “Why did you ask me to come here?”
Marron quietly folded his hands in his lap and stared at them, feeling uncomfortable and under
prepared.
“I need to talk to you,” he answered simply, his voice sad and soft.
“Oh, so now you want to talk?” Bitter and brusque. Gateau frowned, continuing thickly, “I think it’s a little late for that.”
Fingernails dug into palms to avert the heartfelt pain caused by those words. They were words he didn’t want to believe.
Couldn’t believe.
Marron swallowed, “Gateau...” the words were lost to him. A wave of what was something between panic and nausea swept over the mage and his mind went horrifyingly blank. He had to say something. Anything.
“...I’m sor-”
“Marron, just...” Gateau held up his hand almost threateningly to cut off any further words the mage might’ve said, “...just... don’t even bother.”
Marron let his gaze fall to the impersonal blue of the upholstery to escape the heartwrenching blue of his accomplice’s eyes. A heavy silence fell between them, succeeding in making both parties feel pressured, awkward and helpless. The quiet seemed to magnify the dripping noises, making them not only obnoxious, but seemingly thunderous.
Gateau heaved a deep, frustrated sigh and let his fist fall upon the coffee table with a loud thump,
“Tch. I feel stupid!”
Marron looked up, his voice and expression muted and heavy, “Why? Because I let Chocolat sleep with me?”
“No,” Gateau answered, his voice breaking, his face contorted into an expression fathered by a frown and mothered by despair, “... Because you really hurt me.”
His voice possessed the tone and force of urgency, but was made brittle and shaky by the toil of his frustration and sorrow.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Marron said, trying to speak as sincerely as he could.
Gateau looked up, his eyes glittering with hints of tears, “Well, what DO you want?”
Barely above a whisper was the mage’s next inquiry, “What do you want?”
Regarding him with interrogative eyes, Marron froze Gateau’s train of thought with his gaze. Any answers that might have been spoken were lost in a sea of silence, and pummeled by the drum of the distant dripping. The atmosphere hung still and heavy around them as the two men just stared at each other, their eyes speaking the volumes their mouths could not.
There was the sound of a man’s legs shifting upon the upholstery, and Marron found himself leaning forward, just before he claimed Gateau’s lips with his own.
He kissed Gateau. He hadn’t really intended to do so, but some arcane voice deep within the mage’s secretest of souls commanded it be done. Perhaps it was something triggered by a memory that lurked in the darkest recesses of Marron’s mind. He’d tried to forget it over the years with moderate success. He’d been able to drive it into a dark corner of his brain in the time that had passed between his seventh and sixteenth year. Now, the memory was given a violent shove into centre-stage and played like a brilliant broadcast within his mind...
“Why are they doing that?” Seven-year-old Marron asked, making a face.
“They’re kissing, silly,” Gateau laughed, pointing to either figure in the picture as he explained, “The prince loves the princess, and the princess loves him too, so they’re kissing ‘cause they love each other.”
“I know that,” Marron argued, frowning slightly as he studied the illustration in his storybook, “But Father loves me, but when he kisses me good night, he doesn’t do it like that. He just kisses me on the cheek. They look like they’re trying to eat eachother’s faces or something.”
“Hn,” Gateau pondered aloud, “It does look a little weird. My mum used to kiss my dad like that
when he still lived with us. Did your mum ever kiss your dad like that?”
“I don’t remember,” little Marron replied truthfully. He had, after all, been barely three years old
when his mother died.
“Maybe it’s a grown-up thing,” Gateau reasoned, “Maybe our mums and dads don’t kiss us like that because we’re not as old as them.”
Marron thought aloud, “It looks like it hurts.”
Gateau shrugged, “I dunno. I think it looks kind of neat.”
Marron frowned again, this time quizzically as he looked up at his friend. Gateau shook his head,
unable to keep himself from grinning at Marron, “I wanna try it.”
Marron’s eyebrows raised, “With me?” he asked, gesturing toward himself, “But we aren’t
grown-ups.”
“Who says?” Gateau countered, shrugging casually, “After all, I’m gonna be eleven next year.”
“Um...” Marron thought, uncertainty flooding him as he stole a glance at the picture once again. He did kind of like the idea of feeling more grown-up. Perhaps Big Brother would stop treating him like a baby if he did this.
“Okay.”
Gateau carefully took hold of Marron’s face, cupping it with both hands. The smaller of the two
twitched a little but did not pull away. He made a small sound of surprise in his throat when Gateau pressed their lips together. Marron willingly albeit awkwardly allowed his older, more
knowledgeable friend to invade him, the kiss growing deep and wet, both of them shaking
involuntarily, as was betrayed by the choppy, insufficient breaths they drew.
Finally, the need for fresh air tore the two apart and they both sat back in silence, save for their
light panting.
“That was weird,” Marron commented, touching his lips with his fingers, as though the act had
spurred the growth of some kind of fungus. Cooties, perhaps.
“Yeah,” Gateau agreed, running his tongue along the insides of his teeth as though a flavour hung
there. He couldn’t really taste anything out of the ordinary. Still there was... something... “It wasn’t bad, but I don’t want to do it again until I’m bigger.”
“I don’t want to do it ever again.”
“How come?”
Marron wrinkled his nose, shuddering a little, “It was too weird. It felt all slimy and wet. Like eating raw fish or something.”
“What about sushi?”
“What?”
“Your dad makes sushi with raw fish and you eat that.” Gateau pointed out, with what could have been a faint note of protest in his voice.
“Yes, but...”
“So it’s not all that bad,” the blond figured, smiling at his younger friend, “Right?”
Little Marron only shrugged.
Shock soon yielded to pleasure, and both men found themselves serenely brainwashed. Gone were their grudges and their grievances. Lost within the kiss. Marron barely acknowledged the broad hands that gently held his torso if not only to obey them as they silently demanded his submission. Here was his answer. He allowed himself to be brought forward, and draped over the larger body of the now-reclining warrior.
The mage gasped for air as his lips were freed and his neck enslaved, the eager, artful mouth of his
counterpart leaving rosettes of heat implanted within the flesh it mapped across.
A set of warm, tapered fingertips slid fluidly down the tanned expanse of flesh, the owner of the hand only fractionally aware of this action. Hands that were larger and experienced quested over the silken fabric like twins trotting delicately across a field of flowers, finding the embroidered edges of the mage’s clothing and venturing beneath the smooth material...
Unbeknownst to the two, the plip-plipping of the dripping drummed on from far away.
Knock-Knock.
“Sis? You okay?”
Chocolat growled into her pillow, which was quite damp from the ocean of tears she had shed.
“No.”
“Can I come in?”
“Fine.”
Chocolat kept her face hidden in the pillow as she heard the click of the doorknob and the creak of old hinges. The footsteps that approached were soft, as was the settling of the second petite female upon the edge of the bed.
“Chocolat?” small and curious.
“What.” snappish and curt.
“Are you mad at me?”
Chocolat sighed heavily into her pillow before sitting up so she could face her sister her eyes looking redder than normal.
“No,” she said truthfully, “I’m not mad at you.”
Tira nodded, looking only a little relieved, “It’s Carrot then.”
“And Queen No-Shit-Sherlock takes the prize” Chocolat grumbled bitterly with a prolonged
eye-rolling.
Tira sighed sadly, “Are you mad because... we...?”
“No,” Chocolat said thickly, shaking her head, “I’m actually really happy for you. I just hope the same thing that happened to me doesn’t happen to you.”
Tira’s eyes widened behind her glasses, “What do you mean, Chocolat?”
“He didn’t tell you then,” the elder misu confirmed softly, sighing, “He used me, Tira. He told me he’d go out with me if I slept with Marron.”
Tira’s jaw just about hit the floor, “Wha-...? You...? Marron...? Why?”
Chocolat snorted, “Because he wants Marron to be straight.”
The younger of the two finally came to her senses and closed her gaping jaw, “So you... did?”
Chocolat nodded in sombre silence, wiping new tears away.
Tira lowered her head slightly, guiltily, “Chocolat, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
The other redhead sighed and a spell of silence fell between them.
“Sis?”
“Mmm?”
“I know this is hardly the time to be asking you this...” Tira said in a tiny voice, toying with a ringlet of her scarlet hair and looking in the other direction, “But, Marron... How was he?”
“Ynh!” Chocolat let out a small yip of laughter that sounded more like a crazed whimper, “Well, I’ll tell you this much. I ended up on top and when he came, he yelled, ‘GATEAU!!!’”
~IV~
“I just want to go on record and say that I never expected anything like this to happen.”
Marron almost laughed at Gateau’s words. He stared at the wall next to the bed in silence, feeling the older man’s warmth from behind. The light from the bedside table behind them cast their shadow upon the wall, clearly silhouetting the rumpled heap of sheets and bodies they had become. A shadow of the activities that had taken place in that bed mere moments ago.
However innocent the warrior’s words might have made him out to be, the arm that was draped over Marron’s thin waist was a traitor to the whole truth. The gesture was gentle but nevertheless possessive, saying to Marron that while Gateau hadn’t expected things to happen the way they did, he also did not regret it.
Not that Marron could place any blame on Gateau. Not without condemning himself, at least. He
wasn’t angry, nor was he elated. He was in a neutral, pensive state, as though the truths he sought had at last dawned upon him... and rather than being shocked or appalled, he was content to simply allow the world to go on around him as he paused to pick apart those truths calmly and carefully.
The older man shifted his head ever so slightly within the cradle that Marron’s head and shoulder
created. As he did this, the raven ribbons of Marron’s hair moved as well, falling back toward the
mattress from where they had been draped haphazardly over the side of his head. The younger of
the pair couldn’t help but shiver as he felt Gateau’s breath ghost over the curve of his newly bared ear.
“I want to ask you something,” the older of the two informed his partner.
“Go ahead,” was the soft reply.
Gateau took a breath and then said, “When you told me about the whole thing with Chocolat and
Carrot this afternoon, you said that when you and her were having sex, you were thinking about
me... And I was just wondering if you meant what you said.”
Marron sighed softly before responding, “I was just... telling you how I felt,” he said pensively.
Gateau had been absentmindedly tracing invisible patterns along the mage’s forearm with his
fingertips. Now his hand lay against the thin, pale arm as but a warm accomplice, a friendly
guardian.
“What do you mean?”
Marron thought for a moment before answering.
“I think I always wanted my first time to be with you. Like my first kiss.”
“So your first kiss was that time when we were hiding behind the bike sheds at Dotta’s birthday
party?”
“No...” Marron corrected, not bothering to try and shake his head (he saw no point), “It was when I was very young. I think I was six or seven, and you were ten.”
“You’re pulling my leg.”
“I am completely serious,” the younger of the two responded, “We were looking at one of my
mother’s picture books and there was a picture of a prince and a princess kissing. You said you
wanted to try it and I let you. You don’t remember?”
Gateau sighed heavily into the expanse of raven hair, “Nope. Sorry.”
“Hn...” Marron murmured quietly, “I’m surprised. For when I told my brother about it, he certainly did give you a memorable beating.”
Gateau’s train of thought made a violent, brake-screeching U-turn as recollection struck him, “Oh my gods, I do remember. I was walking down the road by your house and Carrot came out of
nowhere...”
“...He and I were playing by the fountain at the entrance to the village,” Marron continued, “Then he saw you passing by and he jumped on your back, hitting you and yelling. I pulled him off of you...”
“...you saved my ass,” Gateau finished. He laughed quietly, “... and your brother has hated me ever since. I remember now.”
“You were my first kiss.”
The warrior smiled against the back of Marron’s neck, “And you were mine.”
The mage let out a long, contented sigh.
“I’m glad.”
“Marron, I really-”
“Let’s not talk any more,” Marron interjected gently, “I’m tired.”
Gateau released a breath he didn’t remember holding. It wasn’t like Marron to interrupt that way, but he could understand the younger man’s need for rest, considering the stressful day they had both endured, not to mention the energetic activities that had taken place in the bed previous to this point in time.
“’Kay,” he said in quiet agreement. Bringing the mage still a little closer to himself, Gateau planted a tender kiss upon the soft neck. He whispered, “Good night.”
The next morning, the sun was bright and the pancakes were delicious, but Carrot found himself
unable to feel the warmth of the sunbeams, nor could he taste the sweetness of the breakfast that
Milphey had made for the group. He was too laiden with guilt to do much more than mope. So that’s what he choose to do all day.
Sometime around noon, the zoanthrope was sitting on the couch in dumb silence when he heard
footsteps approaching.
Carrot looked up tentatively at the man who’d just entered the room. The newcomer was his polar opposite to look upon, but Carrot would never forget the blood they shared. It made all the
difference in the world.
The younger man simply regarded the person sitting a short distance away, not allowing his face to reveal anything.
Carrot tried to think of something meaningful to say. Something that would evoke some kind of
emotion into that serenely neutral expression. He searched himself from heart to soul for something extraordinary, a phrase to fell the masses. Something... deep.
“Hi.”
Marron blinked passively. His inky eyes were flawlessly flat and unreadable, not possessing of the warmth they usually held when they were set upon that familiar tank top-toting, spiky-haired, chestnut-eyed visage.
“You... uh... wanna sit?” The older of the two asked delicately, patting the unoccupied space next to him on the sofa.
Saying nothing, Marron made his way toward Carrot and had silently had a seat beside him.
“Brother,” Marron finally spoke, though quite dispiritedly, “I think you have some explaining to do.”
“Yeah,” Carrot agreed, “But where to begin? Um, I guess I could start with... oh gods, this is going to sound so cliche...” he took a breath before turning toward his brother and looking at him with doleful brown eyes, “...I’m sorry?”
Little brother offered no response. Rather, he sighed softly.
“I’m not angry, Carrot,” Marron stated, his voice flat, but softened by integrity, “I know I’m a flake.”
“You’re not a flake, Marron” Carrot said in response, though soon after finding that his words lacked the sincerity of those of his brother and that they had just fallen off his tongue as a cheapskate attempt at consoling his sibling. Carrot shook his head, his voice shifting slightly, “Well, no, I’m not gonna lie. You are flake,” he sighed heavily, “...And I was just trying to help.”
Marron’s brow knit and his eyes blazed with ebon incredulity, “Help? Brother, all you’ve done is hurt. You hurt Chocolat, you hurt Gateau, you hurt me,” the anger was evident in Marron’s voice, his normally smooth, steady timber splintering as he spoke, “How can you say you were helping?”
“I said I was trying to help. I was doing it for your own good.”
“You think I am sick, then,” Marron answered for himself, a cold frown settling along his features, “You think that my preferences are an illness that can be cured. You’re wrong, Brother. Very wrong.”
“I’m not homophobic, Marron,” Carrot said truthfully, “It’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s the world.”
Marron crossed his arms, his frown not fading even a bit, “I don’t follow you.”
“You remember when we were kids? Little kids?” Carrot asked. Marron would have been annoyed at not receiving a straight answer, but he had a feeling that his brother’s question would lead to a clean and thorough explanation. He nodded in response.
“Yes.”
“People were always picking on you, right?” the elder glace continued, “You never smiled or laughed, so they made you cry. Even though you’ve grown up, people still pick on you because you’re different, right?”
Marron nodded a little ruefully, “Yes.”
“I mean, look at it this way,” Carrot explained, gesturing idly, “People are mean enough to you as it is. If they saw you holding hands with Gateau or kissing him, or something like that, they’d have all the more reason to make your life hell,” Carrot pushed his fingers through his bangs, sighing heavily, “And I didn’t want that for my little brother.”
Marron considered his sibling’s words for a moment before he spoke, “I realize you meant well. You wanted to help me, but the way you handled it was just... wrong.”
“I know, I know,” Carrot lamented, his voice thick with disgust and regret, “but I couldn’t think of anything else and I was desperate. I mean, I wouldn’t give a flying fiscus as to who you decided to be with if the world were a little kinder. And ever since we started being Sorcerer Hunters, YOU turned into MY rescuer. You’ve been saving my sorry butt left and right and I just wanted to be the one to save yours for once.”
“It’s not up to you to save me,” Marron said quietly, “Only I can do that.”
“That’s a load of shit, Marron,” Carrot growled, frowning at his brother, “When we were kids, you wouldn’t have seen your sixteenth birthday if I’d let you try to save yourself. If someone hit you, you wouldn’t hit them back. You always tried to run away or curled up in the corner and let them beat the snot out of you. I’ve always had to step in and do the dirty part of it. It’s been that way forever.”
“But I’m not a little boy anymore,” Marron said in gentle protest, “I am a man. And I have kept the childhood promise I made to myself all those years ago.”
Carrot shook his head, “What promise?”
What could have been a smile fluttered faintly along Marron’s lips as he regarded his brother with a gentler eye than that of before.
“To be strong. Like my big brother.”
Carrot managed a tiny smile and patted his brother on the shoulder, a little lost for words. Marron covered Carrot’s hand with one of his own, making the immortality and depth of their fraternal affection evident. Then he sighed, shaking his magnificent head.
“But it changes nothing,” he said softly, gravely, “This is a burden that can never leave me because I can never forget what happened. I can never forget, and I can never forgive. I can’t live with a dark mark like this upon my soul.”
Carrot’s pulse thickened at these words. Barely managing speech, he asked, “What do you mean?”
“You heard me,” Marron answered gently but firmly, “I cannot live with it.”
“Marron...?”
“My heart can not take it. I have become strong, but apparently not strong enough.”
Carrot felt a sob welling at the back of his throat. He finally understood, and it was a painful
enlightenment. The elder glace drew a shuddering breath. He did not realize that he was still holding Marron’s hand until he found himself clutching it, as if the intensified hold would somehow deter the tears that were brimming behind his eyes.
“Brother...? Brother, you’re shaking,” Marron stated quietly. He managed to smile softly, bracingly at his brother, if only in an attempt to quell the oncoming sobs.
“You needn’t worry about me,” the mage said, rising slowly from his seat, “I will be alright.”
As Marron was turning to leave, he was suddenly forced to a halt. Looking over his shoulder, he
found that Carrot had yet to release his hand and was holding him back. Holding him as if for
eternity.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the calloused fingers loosened against the paler, softer hand, gradually
granting release. Marron’s hand fell forgotten at his side, having been freed. But their gazes still
held, held for long moments until the mage could finally bring himself to break away.
Gateau watched as the younger man stepped out into the hallway in silence, closing the door behind him. He strode slowly toward the warrior, watching him as he leaned almost casually against the wall.
“So, whad’ya tell him?”
“Everything,” Marron replied simply, “As gently as I could. He understands.”
Gateau nodded grimly.
“So... I should be off. It is a fair distance to where I am going,” Marron stated softly, continuing his trek down the hallway. He was suddenly forced to a halt as one of the warrior’s hands encircled his forearm.
“Hey.”
Marron obediently stopped, turning to face the older man, whose eyes were as blue as the sky and just as distant, if not sad.
“Don’t I even get a goodbye kiss?”
Marron sighed in a wistful, but by no means begrudging way as he drew back and allowed the
musclebound arms to embrace his fragile frame. A current of gentle electricity flowed through
Marron as their lips met. This was a special kiss for both of them, for it sealed something eternal
within their hearts. Touching Marron’s lips with his own, Gateau tasted a certain innocence that could never be lost, and he was then reminded vividly of that first stolen kiss. The one they had shared before they knew just how cruel time, people, and life could really be.
Upon parting, the elder of the two gently touched Marron’s face, tracing the delicate features as
though trying to memorize them with his fingertips. The mage simply stared back up at his
companion with dark, faintly contemplative black eyes that seemed to have lost that silvery hint of warmth which used to dance within the irises.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Gateau said vaguely, his hand falling from Marron’s face and diving into his pocket, from which it retrieved a smallish item wrapped in red tissue paper, “I bought this for you at that shoppe. Not that it matters much now.”
Marron accepted the offered parcel and carefully unwrapped it. From the red tissue paper, the mage produced a simple black dog collar with a single silver hoop hung upon the front. He managed a small smile.
“Thank you, Gateau.”
The warrior couldn’t help but return the smile as Marron gathered up masses of black hair in one
hand so that he could buckle the collar at the back of his neck, the leather encircling and contrasting the ornate lapels of his cheongsam like a black, flat snake.
“Gateau?”
“Hnm?”
“You’ve helped me a great deal. Last night made me realize...Well...” Marron trailed off, averted his eyes, “I mean, I owe you a lot for all that you’ve done. Is there anything I can do for you in return... before I... am unable to do so?”
Gateau sighed a little and reached for the younger man’s face, tilting it upward and forcing the inky eyes to meet his own.
“Don’t get all pouty and sad on me,” the older man said good-naturedly, “You’re so much more
beautiful when you’re smiling.”
Subconsciously, Marron did smile at these words. Gateau nodded, “Better. Now, to answer your
question... Uh... Actually, I don’t really want anything more from you at this point. But, if you are serious about doing this...”
Gateau pulled Marron close to him, unable to resist the sorrow-spawned urge to do so, “...I want to be there with you when you do it.”
Marron nodded slowly, softly.
“Very well, Gateau.”
Beyond the cluster of trees ringed around the cottage, and over a vast expanse of dry, infertile land, lay their destination. Gateau let out a low whistle of awe at the sight. A wide, fathomless canyon filled with darkness and a heavy blanket of mist, making it impossible to see where the void ended, that is to say, if it ended at all.
Of course, Marron was quick to explain.
“Many troubled people have come to this canyon in search of solace,” the mage said, his gaze fixed upon the enormous, gaping wound in the ground, “Thousands of peasants and rulers alike have come here for answers, entrusting themselves to the depths and mists of the abyss.”
He turned to face his companion, his eyes dark, intelligent, and as usual, indecipherable, “There is a legend, Gateau, of an aging General who sought to protect his King’s land from a race of cutthroat invaders. He led his army into battle nearby here. They fought bravely, but were no match for the enemy. Only when defeat was certain and his army was on its last legs did the General accept the fact that he could not win. The opposing army demanded surrender. The General did no such thing. Rather, he turned to his remaining soldiers and spoke his last words, a final truth from the bottom of his heart. ‘Souls don’t die,’ he said. With that, he began to walk backwards, taking each step slowly until he finally stepped right off the edge and disappeared into the canyon. The General’s soldiers were so moved by the sincerity and integrity of their leader’s act, that they each in turn followed his example until none of them remained.
“When the enemy soldiers climbed down into the canyon to rob the corpses, they were shocked to find not a single body among the sharp rocks along the ravine floor. It was as if when that General and his soldiers threw themselves into the canyon, they just... kept falling. Perhaps their bodies gave the rocks amiss and transcended into the next life. Perhaps the answer’s to a man’s deepest troubles lie in another time and place...”
The mage gestured for the warrior to follow him. Gateau obeyed, allowing the younger man to lead him to the edge of the canyon. Once as close to the edge as they dared, Marron turned to face his companion, his back to the void. He then took one of the warrior’s broad hands into both of his own and leaned backward. Gateau, who was by no means too stupid to understand was was going on, planted both feet firmly on the ground and gave thanks to the gods that Marron didn’t weigh very much.
The mage then captured the older man’s gaze with eyes like dark, passive prisons.
“Tell me something, Gateau,” he requested quietly, “Anything... So long as you believe it with all
your heart.”
Oh gods. Gateau had been afraid of this. Marron must have known by now that Gateau was not very good with words and depth and wisdom were not the warrior’s forte. Especially at a time like this, when he could think of little more than the empty, Marron-free future that awaited....
Magic, but it came to him... The memory of a certain conversation with a certain Haz Knight in
regards to his feelings for a certain fire mage... He had found what he needed. He finally spoke.
“The fire will never burn out.”
Marron gave nought but a single nod in response, and closed his eyes. Slowly, and fluidly like silk, the narrow hands loosened and slid from the warrior’s, and Marron’s body receded.
Gateau watched his love’s descent, the mage nearing the mists as if in slow motion, the white fabric of his clothing flickering like flames as he fell.
Like flames.
A torrent more eternal than time.
The fire will never burn out.
The warrior watched until the white-clad man became one with the mist, then the ink spill of the
mage’s hair until it found the fog, and he disappeared.
